And so it had seemed like a stroke of good fortune to all the others, admirals and captains alike, when their outposts sighted the queen’s inbound fleet. And they’d proven more than eager to follow Virgil Prime’s command to hide their fleets in the gravity wells and prepare for ambush. They thought it was wonderfully good luck, but Virgil Prime had known better. There was no such thing as luck. Just as there was no such thing as coincidence. It was all design. They were each mere paint strokes on canvas—entirely unaware of the content of the picture and yet part of it notwithstanding.
They watched the queen’s ships sailing unopposed on the display, moving ever closer to the Apollo Yards.
“Shall I give the order to attack?” asked Commander Junius.
“Not just yet,” said Virgil Prime, tapping his hands together. Thinking to himself, we don’t attack until the time is right.
***
“Now clearing a distance of eight-hundred thousand mc’s from the Apollo Yards,” said Mister Ivanov, the Harbinger’s ops chief.
“Stay on course, nice and steady,” said Raidan.
“Aye, sir.”
“And tell the transports to disperse some more, they’re too bunched up. Once we start taking flak from those outposts they won’t want to be so close together.”
“Aye, aye, relaying order,” said the comms officer.
The Harbinger had been named the command ship of Hammerfist Squadron, and Raidan the battlegroup’s commander. He knew the stakes and understood the value of removing the Apollo Yards from enemy control, and he intended to do exactly that. But, as they cleared the distance to the outposts and platforms with virtually no resistance from the enemy, something was deeply wrong.
This is too easy. He turned to his XO. “What do you make of this, Mister Mason?”
“Hard to say. So far everything’s going as planned, I don’t anticipate much trouble.”
“I do,” said Raidan grimly. “Watson, keep her flying as steady as she goes. Ivanov, keep our scanners pointed at those stars. If even a floating bolt emerges from those gravity wells I want to know immediately.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Now clearing a distance of five-hundred thousand mc’s,” said Ivanov. “Still no sign of activity around the gravity wells.”
“Sir, weapons range of the forward outposts in fifteen seconds,” said Lieutenant Frederickson.
“We need to disable those outposts before we can board the platforms,” said Raidan. “All batteries standby to achieve missile lock.”
“Aye sir,” she said and her deputy chief sent the order below. “Bridge to all gunnery crews, we are go for missile lock.” The Harbinger’s weapons could be manually fired in the event of a systems malfunction. Convinced that things weren’t quite as tranquil as they appeared, Raidan wanted to make sure his people were ready for anything.
“Tell the Aurora to move to our starboard flank and the Liberty Sun to position itself behind the transports to cover them,” said Raidan, he studied the display of his starships, all one-hundred and three vessels of Hammerfist Squadron were in formation, ready to attack.
The only ship that was missing was the Arcane Storm. Part of him wished Tristan was here to help in the battle. He was three times more able than Raidan’s next best subordinate and ten times more loyal, but Raidan knew the lycan’s current mission was far too important. If anything, Raidan should have sent more of his ships to help Tristan.
“Weapons lock achieved,” said Lieutenant Frederickson.
“General order to all ships, commence fire.”
***
“Admiral, the forward group is unleashing hundreds of missiles against the outermost stations. Five of the outposts are under heavy fire, two of them report failing shields. No, check that—they’ve both been destroyed. Outpost six’s shields are failing. They’re requesting assistance.”
“We need to act now,” insisted Commander Junius.
Virgil Prime nodded. The time had come. The pot was sufficiently heated and the ingredients were all in place. Now they would feast on the whisper of a hint of the One True God’s glory. “General quarters, clear for action,” snapped Virgil Prime.
“Aye, sir.”
“Raising shields, sounding general quarters.”
“Reynolds, send the following order to the entire fleet,” said Virgil Prime. “Begin the attack. Focus fire on the pre-selected targets.”
“Aye, sir, broadcasting message.”
“Torres, take us away from the star. Lee, you may fire when ready.”
“With pleasure, sir.”
“Accelerating, attack range in twenty seconds.”
“All weapons are charged and loaded.”
Virgil Prime smiled. The One True God demands chaos and He shall have it!
***
As Alex and the Rotham patrol traded staccato-like sounds and hisses back and forth over short-range, Calvin felt a profound sense of doom. He couldn’t tell what was being said by either party, he couldn’t even make out where one word ended and another began, but he could understand what the projected display was showing. An entire patrol of Rotham warships had intercepted their tiny cargo vessel and now had it completely surrounded.
As the exchange continued Alex began to look increasingly stressed and flustered. He kept the Wanderer’s course even and true as much as he could, trying to be faithful to Calvin’s orders and get them to the far side of the system where they could jump away, but apparently the Rotham patrol would have none of it. They said something to Alex, Calvin had no idea what but it sounded harsh, and in response Alex fired braking thrusters and brought their ship to a complete stop.
Calvin heard his heartbeat in his ears.
“What’s happening?” whispered Calvin very quietly to Rafael. “What are they saying?”
“Alex gave them our ship’s credentials and told them he was a lone trader,” Rafael whispered back, so quietly that Calvin wouldn’t have known what he said if he hadn’t been able to see Rafael’s lips. “He said he was on his way back to the Republic. They asked about his cargo and then ordered him to stop the ship.”
“Are they going to board us?” Calvin whispered, feeling a rush of alarm.
Rafael shrugged.
If they board us, we’re all dead, thought Calvin. Knowing there was no adequate place for any of them to hide. If they see anyone but Alex then our cover is blown. He imagined how surprised and intrigued they’d be by the presence of humans and a Polarian, and how eager they’d be to extract whatever information they could through any means, reputably the more brutal the better. Calvin remembered when he and his crew had been prisoners taken captive aboard a Thorpian warship, not unlike the ships surrounding him now, and how the Rotham had dragged away Major Jenkins to torture him and he was never seen again. They’d meant to take Calvin but somehow the Major convinced them to take him instead, ultimately saving Calvin’s life. Calvin would never forget that.
After a moment of silence the Rotham voice crackled over the radio again. Alex replied. Followed by more silence.
“What is it?” Calvin whispered.
“They asked him if he’s visiting the Ancient Apparition,” replied Rafael, his voice barely audible. “Alex told them he doesn’t understand the message.”
“What’s the Ancient Apparition?” asked Calvin.
“No idea.”
Calvin’s eyes moved from Alex, who sat in the pilot’s chair hunched over the controls, to stare into the eerie lights of a fearsome starship now visible out the window, one of many that’d surrounded them. If they don’t believe us, then we’re dead, he thought. They’ll board us and then it’ll be obvious that we’re not who we say we are. Calvin decided then and there that he wouldn’t allow himself to be taken alive. He’d go down on his terms, fighting to the death. He thought of Rez’nac in the other room, and how ferocious he was, and Calvin took some comfort in the knowledge that the Polarian warrior would be fighting at his side. At least we won’t go
down easily.
Of course, all of that assumed the Rotham bothered to board them at all. They might fire a single missile from one of their warships and end it all in a flash of dust and shrapnel.
***
“More ships are emerging from the stars,” reported Mister Ivanov. “That makes at least seven hundred warships and who knows how many more are in there.”
“Stay the course,” Raidan ordered. He’d hoped the enemy wasn’t hiding in those gravity wells, but he wasn’t overly surprised to see them appear—he’d known something was wrong. But what astonished him was how many there were. A seemingly endless swarm of battleships, destroyers, and dreadnoughts, each launching countless fighters, as they bee-lined straight for Hammerfist Squadron.
“Sir, they seem to be focused on us, fast closing.”
“Reynolds, tell our battleships to form up on the starboard flank. We need to protect those transports!”
“Aye, sir.”
“Captain, we’re badly outnumbered and outgunned,” said Mister Mason. “Our fifty warships against their seven-hundred? We don’t have a prayer.”
“How long until weapons range?” asked Raidan.
“About two minutes,” said Frederickson.
“And the queen’s fleet?” asked Raidan.
“The Black Swan is leading the other battlegroups on an intercept course with the enemy fleet, but they’ll hit us first,” said Ivanov. “I estimate twenty seconds of unconstrained hell before our reinforcements reach engagement range.”
“Good thing this ship is built to withstand a little hell,” said Raidan grimly.
“Sir, the troop transports are requesting instructions. Should they continue toward the Yards and commence boarding operations?”
“Absolutely not,” said Raidan. There was no possible way his battleships, even with the help of the rest of Kalila’s fleet joining him, could provide cover for the three hours it would take to board and capture the many platforms of the Apollo Yards. “The transports are far too exposed, tell them to turn back.”
“Aye, sir.”
“What about us, should we turn back as well?” asked Mister Mason.
“Not yet,” said Raidan. “Our job isn’t finished. Reynolds, hail the Black Swan now.”
***
So it was a trap after all, thought Kalila. And a nasty one. She watched the swarm of ships appear on the display, seeming to pour out from the stars themselves with the ferocity of hornets defending their hive.
“Moving to intercept position, the fleet will achieve weapons lock in ninety seconds,” said the defense chief. They were racing to defend Hammerfist but it looked like the enemy would reach them first. The troop transports had turned around and were fleeing.
“Your Majesty, we are being hailed by Hammerfist Squadron’s command ship.”
“Patch it through,” she ordered.
“Queen Kalila, we have to change the plan,” Raidan’s voice crackled over the speakers.
“Why have you sent away the troop transports?” she asked. “We need those Yards.”
“There’s no time to board and capture the platforms with soldiers. That would take hours, we have mere minutes.”
Kalila knew he was right. But she was desperate to salvage her plan and take control of the Yards. She turned to Captain Adiger, “tactical appraisal. If we hit their fleet with full strength, will we buy enough time to take the Yards.”
“No, Your Majesty,” he said. “Not against numbers like that.”
“We only have one option,” said Raidan.
Kalila knew what it was before he said it. But she hesitated to even consider it.
“We have to destroy the Apollo Yards,” said Raidan. “The platforms, the depots, the containers… all of it. There’s no other way.”
Kalila took a deep breath and thought of the thousands of people who operated those platforms. Sure many of them were enemy combatants, but there were civilians too. And probably not every single person aboard every single platform had thrown in with the enemy, even though their leaders had.
“It’s either that or we withdraw immediately,” said Adiger. “If we order a full retreat now, we should be able to salvage most of the fleet.”
“We can’t let the enemy maintain control of the Yards,” insisted Raidan. “If we retreat without completing our mission we may as well surrender. You know as well as I do that whoever controls the Yards controls The Corridor. Besides, they’re already formed up for attack. If we retreat now, they’ll move against one of our core worlds!”
It’s now or never, Kalila realized. Someone had to make the call that would either end the war in defeat or result in devastating loss of life, and as queen she knew it had to be her. No one else could do it.
“Stay the course,” she said, gritting her teeth. Hating herself for making this decision but knowing there was no other way. “Raidan, you and your ships go and destroy those platforms.” She knew she’d effectively just given them a death sentence. “We’ll engage the enemy fleet head-on and provide cover for you as long as we can.”
“Understood. I’ll make sure it gets done!”
***
“Mister Steward, pardon the interruption but I have an urgent report from the fleet,” said Sergei.
“Please excuse us,” said Caerwyn to his Minister of Finance. “I’m sure this will only take a second.”
“Of course.”
Caerwyn turned to his Minister of Strategy. “What is it?” He asked with bated breath. His stomach seemed to flip over. Had something gone wrong? The fleet shouldn’t be sending me word yet, he thought, knowing they couldn’t possibly have launched an attack on Kalila’s core worlds yet. Unless maybe it’s bad news?
“Report from Fleet Admiral Tiberon, sir,” said Sergei. “The rebel fleet has been sighted in the Apollo System!”
“The Apollo System?” asked Caerwyn. “I thought they were going to Olympia.”
“It seems only a small squadron arrived at Olympia, the queen’s main force went to the Apollo Yards. It was a ploy.”
So she’d tried a trick of her own, thought Caerwyn. That little bitch. “Is our fleet still at the Apollo Yards?” asked Caerwyn. “If not, send them there right away!”
“Our fleet is still in the Apollo System,” said Sergei. “Tiberon reports we have engaged the enemy!”
Excellent, thought Caerwyn. Obliterate them all. Wipe the taint of the rebels from the galaxy and end the damned Akira line once and forever.
“I see,” said Caerwyn, careful not show his feelings. “Tell Fleet Admiral Tiberon that my every thought is with him and his brave officers. The entire Empire hopes for his swift and decisive victory.”
***
“Looks like Platform Gamma is about to go,” said Mister Mason.
Raidan watched the blinking light disappear. “That makes twenty of them,” he said. “Switch to next target.”
“Switching targets,” said Lieutenant Frederickson. “Over forty percent of the Apollo Yards infrastructure has been destroyed.”
“Status of the fleet?” asked Raidan. He knew the Aurora had been force to limp away, having been badly damaged in the initial mayhem as Hammerfist collided with the enemy fleet. In the first minute of combat one third of his squadron had been incinerated, including the Liberty Sun. They got some relief once the queen’s fleet reinforced their position, but now the entire Apollo System had become a bloodbath of wanton destruction.
“The fleet is trying to regroup, there have been massive losses on both sides,” said Mister Ivanov. Raidan looked at the various displays tracking each of their battlegroups and watched the lights keep blinking out as more and more ships were thrown into oblivion. Entire squadrons had been wiped out.
This is truly a dark day for the Empire, he thought dourly.
“And what about the queen?” asked Raidan.
“The Black Swan is intact, though many of its support ships have been blown to hell,” said Ivanov. “A lot of our remai
ning destroyers are trying to rally around the flagship and divert some of the fire. She’s got her forces split in two and is trying to pull them together before the enemy can capitalize on that, by the look of it, but for now she seems to be holding the Assembly’s fleet at bay. Can’t say for how much longer, though.”
“Tell the Black Swan to keep it together for just a few more minutes,” said Raidan. “We’re almost done here.”
“Yes sir.” Reynolds relayed the message.
“Proceeding to next target,” said Watson.
“Weapons range in eleven seconds,” said Frederickson.
“Turn forty-five degrees and give them a taste of our port side,” said Raidan. “Our forward armor is taking too much of a beating.”
“Aye sir.”
“Status of the shields?” he asked.
“Thirty-two percent and holding, for now. But I’ve had to drain almost all of our secondary power,” said Frederickson.
“Switch to tertiary if you have to. But keep those shields up.”
“Aye, aye.”
“Weapons are locked, opening fire.”
“Tell the rest of Hammerfist to form up on our flanks. No matter what happens, we are completing our objective. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir.”
Chapter 26
The silence was unbearable. The waiting was worse. It had only been about two minutes since they’d last heard something, but it seemed like centuries. And Calvin felt ready to burst, unable to bear the uncertainty.
“What is it?” he asked. “What are they doing?”
The Phoenix War Page 39
